Madalene gave her companion an amused look. “I see that you have been reading Pride and Prejudice again.”
“I have not,” Mrs. Foster replied. “I just remember what it felt like the first time I saw my husband from across the room. Our eyes met, and I knew that my life had changed forever.”
“Not everyone finds a love match.”
Mrs. Foster bobbed her head. “That doesn’t mean you should ever stop looking.”
“I tire of men and their flowery words,” Madalene stated. “I have yet to find a gentleman who will speak his mind freely around me.”
“Give it time,” Mrs. Foster encouraged.
Madalene smiled. “That could be a problem, because one of my greatest flaws is that I lack patience.”
“That you do,” Mrs. Foster agreed. “You have been that way since you were a little child.”
“My mother constantly chided me for making rash decisions, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.”
Mrs. Foster offered her a sad smile, her voice full of compassion. “Your mother was a good woman.”
“That she was,” Madalene agreed. “Speaking of which, we need to travel to London to tour the orphanage. We haven’t been back since it was first opened.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, especially since I wouldn’t mind doing a little shopping while we are in Town.”
“I am not surprised in the least.”
Mrs. Foster laughed. “You could always join me on my shopping trips.”
“I would rather not.”
“And why is that?”
“Because searching through fabrics does not interest me,” Madalene replied honestly. “I would much rather be reading a book.”
“You shouldn’t say such things,” Mrs. Foster remarked, lowering her voice. “You could be labeled as a bluestocking.”
“So be it.”
Mrs. Foster shook her head good-naturedly. “It is a good thing that you are beautiful and rich. You get to write your own rules.”
“Isn’t that grand?” Madalene asked as she started walking towards the door. “If you need me, I am going to change for breakfast.”
“I find it odd that Mrs. Ridley called on you so early this morning.”
Madalene stopped at the door. “I don’t,” she replied, glancing back at her companion. “I have come to always expect the unexpected from that woman.”
“Do you wonder what else Mr. Ridley wrote on that piece of paper?” Mrs. Foster joked.
“I do not,” Madalene replied.
As Madalene stepped out from the drawing room, she headed towards the grand staircase that dominated one side of the entry hall. Her thoughts kept returning to Mr. Ridley. She would need to be mindful not to encourage the man. The last thing on her mind was marriage.
Madalene glanced out the window of the coach in the unfashionable part of Town and watched as the street vendors hawked their goods on the crowded pavement.
Mrs. Foster removed a fan from the reticule around her left wrist and started fanning her face. “Are we almost there?”
“We are.”
“Thank heavens,” Mrs. Foster said, lowering her fan to her lap. “After spending nearly all of yesterday traveling to Town, I’m afraid I am growing rather tired of seeing the interior of this coach.”
Madalene gave her an understanding smile. “I do appreciate you coming with me.”
Mrs. Foster returned her smile and replied, “That is what a dutiful companion does, especially when you desire to visit an unsavory part of Town.”
“Well, I am grateful that you are my companion.”
“As am I, my dear,” Mrs. Foster said, her voice sounding sincere. “There is no place I would rather be.”
Madalene smoothed down her simple cotton gown. “I am most relieved that my mother had the foresight to convince you to stay on as my companion before she died.”
“Your mother was always looking out for you.”
“That she was,” Madalene agreed in a soft voice.
“I just hope that I have helped you as much as you have helped me,” Mrs. Foster remarked.
“Oh, you most assuredly have,” Madalene replied. “I don’t know how I would have endured these past few months without you by my side.”
Mrs. Foster smiled tenderly. “You are a strong child, much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
Madalene lowered her gaze to her lap and admitted, “I don’t feel very strong.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I miss my mother dreadfully.” Madalene blinked back her tears, knowing it was not the time to display such emotions.
“There is no shame in that,” Mrs. Foster reassured her. “It has only been six months since your mother passed away. You must give yourself time to properly grieve.”
“Will the pain ever cease?” Madalene asked, bringing her gaze back up to meet her companion’s.
A look of anguish came into Mrs. Foster’s eyes. “The pain will never go away, but it will fade with time. At least, that is how it is for me with my dear George.”
“I am sorry for bringing it up.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Foster said. “I enjoy speaking about George. In my opinion, it helps keep his memory alive.”
Before Madalene could respond, the coach came to a jerky stop in front of a large two-level brick building. A sign hanging above the door read Elizabeth Dowding School for Orphan Girls.
The coach dipped to the side as the footman left his perch and came to put the step down. After it was extended, he opened the door and reached into the coach to assist them onto the pavement.
“Would you care for me to announce you, Miss Dowding?” the footman asked as he released her hand.
“That won’t be necessary, but I thank you kindly.”
The footman tipped his head before he took a step back.
Madalene stood in front of the building and admired it. The red bricks may have started to fade, but new windows had been installed, and the main door had received a fresh coat of paint.
Mrs. Foster came to stand next to her. “Your mother would be proud of you and your accomplishments,” she said.
“Do you suppose so?” Madalene asked as she offered her companion a side glance.
“I do,” Mrs. Foster replied. “What you have done here is no small feat.”
“I just wanted to find a way to honor
